Firewall.
Bond had called himself his firewall.
Q knew it was an apt description, one he might have come up with, but it had been James. He was so much more than an anchor, and even that was more than Q had ever hoped of having in the past.
His protection.
Part of Q balked at the word. He didn't need protecting. He wasn't a child or defenseless. He had lived all his life with the horror of getting lost inside the web, of the insanity that awaited him there. He had persevered. He had survived.
He had found his anchor. He had James Bond, another part reminded him. This was what he had always wanted, what those few technopaths who were moderately in possession of their faculties dreamed of. He had achieved what neither of the others had.
He didn't even know them.
It didn't make him less, really. It made him… more effective, if Q let it happen, that was. Right now he was still fighting it, despite the logical side of his mind telling him that it was what he needed.
What if Bond decides it isn't worth the effort? a nasty little voice whispered. He was independent, strong even without Q, and Q was…
An arm slid over his waist, pulled him close to the hard body behind him. Lips brushed over the nape of his neck, with teeth biting lightly. The contact derailed the abrasive thoughts.
"Give it a rest, Q," Bond murmured.
He turned his head and tried to catch a glimpse of the other man's face, but Bond had buried himself against Q's back.
The arm tightened a little.
"This is what we are," the agent murmured, voice muffled. "What we need of each other."
Q blinked, caught. He was pretty sure Bond's preternatural side didn't include telepathy, but maybe it was just his training. The way he could read people. The way he knew Q.
What they needed of each other.
He needed the anchor, the firewall. The phoenix needed all of Q, sometimes in a very all-encompassing way that would have devoured weaker men. He had never submitted to the powerful creature and Bond had never hurt him. Their relationship was complicated and nothing in his past compared to it. Q hadn't gone into this as a virgin. Just because he had never been a jock didn't mean he had never had sex. Or a relationship. It simply meant he had never been with a man like James Bond.
He wasn't weak. Had never been weak.
Needing Bond was… normal, part of him whispered. It sounded a whole lot like James.
Rough lips nipped at his neck and Q shivered a little. His eyes closed involuntarily when Bond bit him lightly.
"I apologize," Q whispered.
"What for?"
He shrugged ever-so slightly. "This. The whole… breakdown. It shouldn't have happened. I knew the dangers. I ran into the whole mess with my eyes closed."
James pulled him closer, resting his chin on Q's shoulder. A day-old stubble scratched lightly against Q's neck.
"I'm your anchor, Q."
Yes. He was. All of him. Q needed this man and he needed the cold, calculating darkness. It was the complete opposite of what he was.
"I guess you didn't bet on it being like that," he muttered.
It got him a soft huff of a laugh. "I had no idea what to expect. I only knew it felt good. Right."
Q closed his eyes. Yes. It felt good. Bond had simply accepted the fact and gone on. Pragmatic as he was, stoic and taking it all in a stride. A field agent, Q mused.
Bond's hands stroked lightly over his stomach. "You're not a burden."
Damnit! He had to be telepathic somehow!
"I'm much more demanding than you have been, Q. All I do is… be there. You on the other hand…"
Q snorted. "I'm there as well."
"To work off the energy."
"Hm, in a good way."
Bond nuzzled against his neck again. "I believe I'm still a lot more maintenance than you would ever be to me. If you would let me help."
Q was silent.
"Trust me," the agent murmured.
"I do." And he did. No reservations, no hesitation.
"Then let me be there."
He opened his eyes, staring into the dimly lit room. The blinds were open and while it was night, the lights from outside gave him shapes and outlines.
"You are always there, James," Q said softly.
"But you fight me."
"I'm not… I can do this. It's my ability."
"One that was crippled up until a few months ago. You are healing, Q. Taking on Silva's virus program on your own was a bad idea."
"I wasn't even planning to! I was side-tracked."
"Even worse."
He fell silent, aware that the rebuke was earned. He had been careless, flighty, acting on impulse. It could have sent him right back into that abyss from his teenage years.
"Tell me," Bond broke the silence.
"Tell you?"
"What do you see? What made the virus so interesting?"
Q was slightly baffled. "It's… beautiful," he finally rallied to put into words what only he could see inside the web. "All intricate patterns and code. It's breathtaking and unique and… and something I thought I'd never be able to touch," he added softly.
Gentle fingers caressed his temple.
"You can," Bond said in that low, rough voice. "Now."
And he still had to learn. How to be a technopath, how to rely on a man who shouldn't have been such a perfect fit. Q had thrown himself head first into being there for the phoenix, but he hadn't been so accepting in his own short-comings.
"It's like a siren's call," he murmured. "You look at it and it's bright lights and wonderful code and everything… I want to be there, inside, look at it, understand it from this unique perspective."
"You're new to this, Q."
"I shouldn't be!"
Another caress. It silenced the anger and Bond nuzzled his neck. "But you are. My preternatural side is instinctive. I don't control it. I just rise from the dead whether I want to or not. Yours is complicated, controlled by yourself. You switch it on or off. You have to reach out for me, Q. You need to train it. I just need to come back alive."
Q was silent again. He knew those words were utterly true. Bond had simply needed a reason not to fall into the void. Q had to start from the beginning and work from there.
"We are in this together, quartermaster," his agent added. "This doesn't make us less. I'm still here because of you, so please let me return the favor now and then. Stop fighting the anchor and let me help."
That had him turn. The other man let him, his embrace loosening, and Q looked into the well-known face currently bathed in shadows.
"I'm not fighting it," he said softly.
"You are. Trust me, Q."
"I trust you with my soul, 007."
Broad hands touched his face, caressed his pale skin. "Then trust me with your mind, too. Don't do this alone."
Q could only nod, mesmerized by the words.
Trust him with his mind. Yes, he already did. He simply had to beat it into his own head that showing need wasn't a weakness. The phoenix's needs were different than the technopath's, but they both had to ask in their own way. Q had never said no. Bond wouldn't either.
His touch alone had chased away the headache.
Q, old boy, that should tell you something.
He sighed silently, feeling like a stubborn child.
James kissed him, pushing him back into the pillows. It was a slow, gentle, loving kiss. Reassuring and filled with sensual warmth.
Q poured everything in this kiss, everything he felt, he wanted, he needed and wished for. Bond framed his head with his hands and nipped, licked and gently bit at his mouth, lips and surrounding skin.
"Please," Q whispered, breath hitching a little when that hard, muscular body settled over him. "Please."
Because he needed… wanted… this. All of this. The phoenix wasn't alone in its hunger and desire. They might need each other in different ways, but he couldn't agree more on how they expressed it.
Bond didn't say a word, but he didn't stop either.
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Coming back into work Q ignored the surreptitious looks from his team and simply did his job. The beta test had been completed by the IT crew and he went over the details with a fine-toothed comb once more.
Nothing was amiss.
He gave them a green light to implement the program.
He isolated the virus and put it under heavy lock and key. The laptop would stay offline, away from anything even remotely connected to the new servers, and if he truly did attempt to examine it, he would ask for Bond to be there.
It was their deal. No solo adventures of the technopathic kind. Q had vowed he wouldn't do it, wouldn't even go near the tempting codes, and he would stick to it.
He wasn't stupid. Or reckless. It had been an accident and he understood that accidents happened, even to seasoned hackers like him.
He smiled a little.
Bond walked into Q branch around noon. He moved with the sure gait of a big cat on the prowl, examining his territory, assessing the possible threats.
Q looked up, meeting the smile with a neutral expression. "007. You are late."
Tanner had sent him a brief message detailing the new assignment. It was a joined venture, a cooperation of the Norwegian and Finnish police and MI6. Find a missing British diplomat who had gone under with a whole lot of sensitive information and was currently somewhere in the dark, cold expanse of northern Scandinavia.
Bond just perched himself on the table, looking smug and unrepentant.
Q rolled his eyes. "Follow me."
He led his agent down a tunnel and into one of the equipment rooms. One of his men had already prepared the package and Q simply detailed what Bond was outfitted with.
Cold weather gear. Specially designed to be light-weight and still protect the agent against the freezing cold. Night vision goggles that looked more like fancy sun-glasses. Arctic survival kit. His gun, now with the added bonus that it wouldn't fall victim to freezing should it be dropped in water.
"Try not to lose it in a lake, 007."
"The operational word is 'try'." Bond checked it, smiling a little when the dermal sensors reacted to his palm print.
Q handed him his passport and tickets. Bond slipped them into his suit jacket's inner pocket.
"Good luck, 007."
Bond winked and slipped the plug Q had designed for him into his right ear.
Q refused to react to the playfulness, but it was hard to not smile, ever so slightly.
"Stay out of trouble," his agent said.
He huffed. "You are one to talk."
The agent just smirked a little more and gathered the equipment. He walked out of Q branch with his usual self-assured air.
Q returned to his work station and if his laptop screen showed the tiny dot that was James Bond moving through the maze of London's streets, heading for Heathrow International, it had everything to do with his responsibilities as the man's handler.
::Have a good flight, 007:: he sent technopathically before Bond boarded.
"Oh, I will," Bond answered as he sat down and buckled in.
Business class to Oslo, then on to Kirkenes.
"Talk to you when I'm on the ground," he said.
Q acknowledged. He left the window open.
Just in case.
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fin for this one. Writing the next already!